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This is an Original Trainer One-Shot (or you can consider it a short story) and it's rated PG. I realize it's written in an uncommon POV and tense, but please don't let it drive you away before you read it and find out for yourself.

You have no idea how appreciative I'll be for any critique/thoughts/opinions, etc. for this fic. It's a totally new style that I've never tried, and I'd like to know if it's successful or not. Please note this is a character centered piece, even if it doesn't seem so much so at first. ^_^

The Ties that Bind

by: Saffire Persian

~They say that Time will eventually heal all wounds; but people tend to forget the deep, everlasting scars it leaves~

The noise the crowd is making in the stands is almost deafening. You turn your head to glance at rows of avid fans, smiling for a moment – but only for a moment – before you turn back to meet your opponent’s gaze. Again, you can’t help but marvel at the fact that you’re here, you’re finally here! Through the blood and sweat and constant toil, you have finally made it to the final battle that will ultimately determine who will be the next Champion.

The journey to get here has been difficult, but it has been worth every bead of sweat and sleepless night. Even the Elite Four were just another obstacle in life's road -- just another roadblock you had to overcome. And here you are now: one last stop before that dream is realized, perhaps becoming reality.

Because right now (you feel as if you are in a waking dream, and you hope to never wake up) you are facing off against the current Champion in a battle that has, as of yet, not been disappointing. After a spectacular double knockout you are both down to your final Pokémon. The sixth and the last. You are tied, and you know that even if you lose, you will not be disappointed. In your hand, the pokéball that contains your last contender – your final hope and light – is clutched, waiting to be summoned. He is the first Pokémon you ever received; you have been with each other since the beginning. He's trustworthy and loyal; you know he’ll never let you down. He never has.

The Champion, out of courtesy, is going first, though it doesn’t really matter who goes first now. The red and white ball flies through the air, erupting in a flash of white light. Out of the light, a giant verdant creature appears, a giant flower spread across her back, while a long, steady grin emerges on her long face as she stamps the ground in challenge. You smile and fancy you can feel it tremble.

The Venusaur doesn’t daunt you – very few things in battle do now. You’ve seen just about everything. You only grin and, tapping the center of the pokéball once, you throw it out into the battleground. In a bright flash of evanescent white, a draconic figure emerges. Tough and vibrant, with a long, flamed-tipped tail that is lit and flickering, the Charizard surveys the crowd; it takes him a moment to react. He looks back at you first, with an obvious tinge of amusement in his black eyes, then to the giant Venusaur in front of him. He snorts as if this battle is nothing (though you both know equally well that is anything but nothing), and with a loud roar, he sends a long thread of dark flame into the sky: his battle cry.

The Champion gestures for you to make the first move, and you take it.

“Fly!”

He roars once before bolting up into the blue noonday sky, wings spread wide, each flap taking him higher and higher, until his body is finally in front of the sun, so it’s harder for the opponents below to see him.

The Champion is not a Champion for nothing; he does not hesitate. "Solar Beam."

Nor do you. "When the Venusaur uses Solar Beam, dodge it and dive."

He prepares for it, his wings slanting in expectation, and you know he’s ready to dodge. Moments later, the Venusaur releases the beam of concentrated light, and then he dives, evading the Solar Beam by mere inches. He is forced to continue his downward course as the Venusaur moves to direct the Solar Beam to the left, trying to score a hit before the energy runs out.

“Slash!”

The beam begins to fade into nothing more than a few harmless yellow waves. And your Charizard, heartened by this, picks up speed, bellowing in challenge. The Venusaur is too slow and large to even try to evade the attack, and hasn’t yet had time to regain her breath.

Sharp, pointed claws rake across the Venusaur’s tough skin and fragile foliage, leaving deep scratch marks and ripped pieces of leaf and petal in their wake. Your Charizard then cranes his neck as he flies past and spits out a small Flamethrower for good measure. You hear him grunt in satisfaction as the Venusaur cries out in pain, her roar as deep as an earthen drum. Your Charizard begins to ascend, so he does not see the thick vine that emerges from the Venusaur’s body until it is too late.

With a harsh crack, the tough vine wraps around your Charizard’s ankle like a whip, and with a tough, vengeful jerk she brings the Charizard back to her own level – face-first. It’s the Venusaur’s turn to grunt in satisfaction as your Charizard struggles to rise. He is too close to the Venusaur for your own liking, now only a foot away from the green behemoth, the vine still securely wrapped around his leg.

A plethora of vines then burst out from all around the Venusaur’s body (how it’s even possible she has that many is an amazement to you) just as your Charizard picks himself up. You know you have to fend them off before it gets worse. Some of them are already beginning to curl around the lower half of the dragon’s body.

“Ember!”

The quick attack is spit out – the tiny, blackened shards of fire fending off the rest of the green appendages for now. The Champion sees this, and he meets your eyes. You know what he is going to do without trying. You would do the same in his place.

“Stun Spore.”

But you are going to try to stop it. “Flamethrower!”

A thick cloud of yellow, paralyzing powder is sent forth in a giant cloud that surrounds both Pokémon. So thick is it, you can barely see your fire-type through the haze (it then strikes you how desperate the Venusaur must be to conjure up such a copious amount).

The Stun Spore is already beginning to disperse into the air, and now you can see enough of your companion’s body to watch him raise his head, open his lethal jaws, and inhale deeply –

But he stops in mid-breath, and you can hear a raspy sort of sputter come from him. The paralysis must be taking hold. Meanwhile, the Venusaur seizes her chance. Green appendages hiss as they cut through the air. They are all around him now: his arms, his legs, his torso… some are even curling about his neck, preparing to constrict and strangle.

(You face flushes in anger at this, and a bunch of expletives cross your mind, but you do not say them. You also think the move the Champion is using is low, but the referees say nothing about it, so you say nothing, but your mind is raging… But you will take care of that later. What matters is the here and now: you cannot let the Venusaur continue. )

You call out to your Pokémon by name (not his species name, but the true name you gave in Viridian Forest, when you and he first became acquainted). You know he hears you, and you cry out, voice desperate and pleading. You cannot allow the paralysis to take hold just yet. You can’t.

“Flamethrower! Please! You have to use it!”

He hears your desperation – you know he does. The lungful of air he had taken in previously is released along with a torrent of white-hot fire. Nothing is held back. The flame washes over skin and plant like a giant tide, burning away many of the vines that cross the Flamethrower’s path towards the Venusaur’s face, where it hits with all the possible fury the Charizard can muster – and he does not stop there. The fire flows out of the dragon’s throat until he can exhale no more and the smell of burned flesh mingles with the smokey, spore filled air.

The Venusaur is still standing. The vines that have not been severely burned still hold tight around their quarry. The Venusaur is weary but alive, and it's only then you notice the she was channeling the sun’s rays into energy meant to heal and restore, though in this case it merely kept her conscious with enough energy to carry on.

You curse aloud, watching as your Charizard succumbs to the paralysis, body twitching as he tries to move his limbs but can’t. He can’t fight off the vines that now are twisting around his neck in order to stop him from breathing fire.

The audience has hushed. No longer do you hear the excited screams and cheers for both sides. Only silence. And out of the silence, you hear the Champion speak, his eyes glimmering like ice while his tone is just as cold.

“Hold him down. Use Solar Beam. Don’t hold back.”

The vines constrict, but that is not what you are most worried about: it is the flower upon the Venusaur’s back that you are most concerned over. Already the center of the flower is filling with the sun’s rays, glowing with a horrid white-yellow light. The going is slow, thankfully. You can see the grass-type is straining to gather each essential bit of energy for the final attack that will, if it’s not stopped, bring about the end of the match – the end of your dream.

(And you don’t intend to let your dream go so quickly. Not after you have come this far.)

The only way to win is to stop the attack from charging, and fast. The Venusaur can’t hold out for much longer. Another strong attack might be enough to knock the beast out for the count. First, though, you have to get your Charizard to move. You know some of the bonds that hold him are fragile, weakened by fire’s burning touch.

(Don’t give in without a fight.)

Taking a deep breath, you shout out his name again and you can see him strain his head to look at you; his pupils are constricted, like a cat’s. Your eyes meet his ruby ones and you nod your head, only once.

True fire might not be an option now, but you can still settle for the next best thing.

“Dragon Claw!” you shout. “Finish it!"

With agonizing slowness, your Charizard begins to strain against his bonds. One of his claws is now surrounded by a pale green nimbus, and the vines wrapped around it recoil, loosening, while he strives against the bonds that hold him. (They are not strong enough to push him away.) Then, mustering the last of his strength, your Charizard strikes.

Green flames dance over the surprised plant-type, setting the already burned foliage alight with dragon-fire, while merciless claws dig into the already burned, tender skin in a last desperate attempt to snatch victory out of the claws of chance.

Then, as soon as it began, the attack is over. The Venusaur is swaying while your Charizard doesn’t move from his upright position.

Vines loosen. The Venusaur teeters dangerously on her feet until she can keep herself conscious no longer and slumps onto the arena floor and moves no more. The vines fall away and your Charizard is given room to breathe. A few seconds of respite are all you’re given before the referee is forced to give judgment. The noise of the crowd erupts anew, drowning out the sound of the referee’s voice. But what has just happened is clear: you are the new Champion.

Another few seconds go by before you fully comprehend what has just happened. But when it does, it hits you like a brick. Your heart shoots up in your chest, and you think for a moment it just might leap out as the euphoria swells deep within you. Only the feelings of self-consciousness keep you from jumping up and down in your trainer box – that and the fact your Charizard still hasn’t moved.

You find it strange that he isn’t up beside you. He may be paralyzed, but that hasn’t stopped him before. You notice his tail flame is low – dangerously low, and though he may be on his feet, he hasn’t moved, not even to shrug off the limp pieces of vine that have not fallen off his body.

It is then you first know something is wrong.

The noise of the crowd lessens while the sound of your own heartbeat magnifies a hundredfold. You stare, eyes concerned. You call out his name to see if he’ll respond.

He only turns his head to stare at you, his muzzle open wide like he is breathing hard... but he isn’t. His eyes roll, and to your horror, he collapses. Even as he’s falling, you run out of the trainer box, knowing, just knowing, something is wrong. A thousand different thoughts flutter through your mind in one spontaneous instant.

Please...

Don’t let anything be wrong.

It can’t go wrong.

It’s not right, it’s not fair.

He’s just fainted, that’s all. Nothing more.

Nothing more…

You’re kneeling at his side now, silently saying his name over and over. He doesn’t respond to your pleas, and your heartbeat quickens. He’s always responded before.

You suddenly notice that he’s not breathing. There’s no reassuring rise and fall of his chest, no wispy smoke billowing out of his nose as he exhales.

You panic, and everything suddenly becomes a blur.

(Figures are melded; red is blue and green is black; noises sound fuzzy and distant, distorted like a Screech had just disrupted your whole system; voices sound garbled, mixed around like words in a paper shredder.)

You are barely aware that the stand-by medic has noticed your distress until two Machoke flit in front of your eyes, lifting a prone body of a Charizard onto a large stretcher. Your Charizard. They lift the stretcher effortlessly, leaving you behind to watch them go farther and farther away.

Suddenly, your emotions kick in. “Wait!” you scream. Well, you try to, but no words come. It’s as though your voice is gone, coming out as nothing more than a pitiful squeak.

Your head is spinning. They can’t just take him away and leave you. You’re his friend, you’ve been with him since the beginning. What right have they to leave you here? Shaking your head in an attempt to clear your mind (to dispel this waking nightmare) you finally compose yourself enough to sprint after them.

You do not see the concerned look the former Champion gives you as he recalls his Venusaur back into her pokéball. You also do not notice the group of reporters that are coming across the field, cameras flashing. Everything is going by so fast, and you’re barely aware that tears are brimming at the corners of your eyes. It’s as if your whole body has been set on auto-pilot, your attention focused solely on the cold metal stretcher and your Charizard’s diminishing tail flame. It’s barely candle-sized now.

You are seconds behind the Machoke in entering the Pokémon Center, the strong scent of ammonia reaching your nose. The resident Nurse Joy and two Chansey are already waiting for you. Already, you see her blue-grey eyes wander over the Charizard’s prone form, giving him a quick check-over. You watch her carefully, hopefully, and you see her mouth twist ever-so-slightly into a frown, but it quickly disappears as she looks at you, giving you a faint smile. She gestures to the Machoke, and she mutters something indistinguishable and the Chansey hasten to obey her orders, issuing high-pitched squeaks of their own, before both scuttle into the emergency room. One of them peeks around the corner, beckoning the Machoke inside with stubby pink hands.

Your heart can’t help but clench painfully in your chest as the Machoke move, taking your Charizard with them. You can’t even see his tail flame anymore. Frightened, you make a move to follow them inside the ER, but Nurse Joy stops you, placing a cold, pale hand on your shoulder. It’s meant to be comforting, but it isn’t.

“Please –” you start to say, barely able to control the waver in your voice.

Instead of hearing you out, she says in a fake, cheery voice that sounds robotic: “We’ll take it from here. Everything is going to be all right. Your Charizard is in good hands.”

“You don’t understand –“

She cuts you off again. “I understand completely. We’ll notify you if anything happens.”

Without a backwards glance, she heads into the emergency room, leaving you to stare at the blank, white walls. Of all the emotions rising within you, anger and frustration erupt to the top.

Who does she think she is?

She says she understands, but you know she doesn’t. She knows medical terminology and stuff, but she doesn’t know your Pokémon like you do.

How would she know that your Charizard hates to be alone with people he doesn’t know?

(She doesn’t.)

How would she know that he hates needles?

(She wouldn’t.)

If he wakes up, will she know how to handle him? Can she comfort him like you do when he’s frightened or sad?

(She can’t.)

So how would she know that leaving you out her is best for him? How can she tell you that everything is going to be all right when you can plainly see that it's everything but all right?

Tears are making your vision blurry, and you are hit with a sudden dizzy spell. You stumble over to a corner where soft, blue chairs and a wooden table are placed. You fight the urge to bury your head in the polyester cushion, instead pinching yourself to see if maybe, just maybe, you’ll wake up from this horrid nightmare.

(Wake up! Wake up! Rise!)

But the pinch hurts, and when you open your watery eyes, the scenery is just the same: blank, uncomforting, and cold. The only difference is that there is a Blissey in front of you, clutching a tissue in her small, knobby paws.

“Bliss!”

She smiles widely. You take the tissue she offers you, but you don’t use it to dry your eyes. Instead, it's clutched tightly in your fist, and you squeeze it, as if squeezing it will make everything go away. The Blissey is still staring at you, her pink and white rotund body teetering back and forth. The front doors whiz open, and the silence is shattered.

Flashes. Bright, inconsiderate flashes of light illuminate your face, momentarily blinding you. Normally you wouldn’t have thought twice about giving these rude people a piece of your mind. But not right now. You are in no mood for fighting (and you don’t know when you will ever be again).

You are barraged with questions from a thousand different voices, all clamoring to get the first word out of you, but you aren’t going to give it to them.

Why must they ask such questions? Don’t they see you are in no mood to talk? Don’t they see that you are gently shaking? Your pale, tear-stained face?

How do you feel about being the next Champion? they ask. How do you feel the battle with the former Champion went? Are you pleased? Surprised? Disappointed? What did you have to do to get this far?

Not: Are you all right? What happened to your Charizard? Is there anything we can do?

How would you be feeling if you didn't know whether your Pokémon was okay or not? you want to shout out in retaliation, but you don’t. You still do not trust yourself to speak, afraid that if you do, your voice will break, and maybe if you don’t speak, these people will go away.

The reporters and other various people that have shown up show no sign of leaving or giving up. They stick microphones in your face and many try to touch you on the shoulder, to grab your attention, but you are aware enough to wave them off. This doesn’t seem to deter them. They are forming a circle around you like a bunch of carrion birds over a dead carcass, and the Blissey, who has been standing by your side the whole time, is pushed roughly out of the way.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see the Blissey’s face scrunch up, her eyebrows forming a perfect wedge, while her eyes sparkle with a dark light. The corners of her mouth twitch, and her pink and white body seems to grow in size – like it’s made of elastic. She looks about ready to burst, a furious pink balloon of fury. She stands on her tiptoes, and you see her shoot furtive glances from left to right.

“Listen –“ you finally say, your voice wavering, but you are cut off as the endless tirade of questions bombards you.

(Can’t they just go away?)

The Blissey is now walking purposely forward, waving her arms back and forth. You stand up just as the Blissey enters the crowd, pushing through the people with her oval-shaped body, her gaze that of righteous fury…

****

Three successful Egg Bombs later, you find yourself in a small guest room into which the Blissey has ushered you. You are sitting down on the bottom bed, looking out the window when she comes in again three minutes later. You see she has brought a bowl with her, full of what looks like an egg salad. She sets it on the coffee table, looking up at you expectantly.

"Umm... thank you."

Your voice is weird, and she notices it. She gives you an odd look and seems about ready to say something when a horde of loud, obnoxious voices waft from outside the door. Her face comically scrunches up again, and her mouth takes the form of a scowl. She quickly leaves the room, pulling the door shut. Now that she’s gone, you can’t help but feel that her endeavor, though good-hearted in nature, was a waste of time: any appetite you had is all but gone, and your thoughts are elsewhere.

Still, you poke at the egg salad and sigh, looking at the window just in time to see a small flock of Pidgey fly past. As a few minutes go by, you think you can hear singing, gentle and soft, coming from just outside your door, but you aren’t too sure. You suddenly feel sleepy, and all the thoughts in your head are jumbled as you sink into a dreamless sleep.

(You don’t know that it was the Blissey that was humming a sleep-song outside your door. You also don’t know that it was she who guarded your room from invaders for the rest of the afternoon that you slept away. You also don’t know that she sent exactly fifteen Pokémon to Nurse Joy, all suffering mild to severe concussions. You also don’t know that eight trainers now sport black eyes because they asked one too many questions.)

When you wake up again, it is far into the evening.

Exactly forty-five minutes later you find out your Charizard is dead.

It takes you three days to accept it.

****

Only when you have no more tears to shed and a no longer have a voice to scream do they tell you how he died.

He died from paralysis of the lungs: he suffocated to death. When the Venusaur released the thick cloud of Stun Spore, your Charizard inhaled in order to use Flamethrower. Simply put, he inhaled the Stun Spore, breathing it deeply into his lungs while the deadly particles settled there, paralyzing not only his lungs, but the muscles and tissue around them.

A freak accident, they call it.

They say they tried to save him, administering all sorts of potions and antidotes to cure paralysis. But with it so deeply rooted in the lungs, the malady was hard to dispel, and by then, it was too late. He was already gone.

(But you suddenly think you knew that he was dead the moment the Machoke had carried him away, your mind was just too busy denying it to listen to your heart.)

How the Charizard was even able to fight and stay conscious as long as he did surprises the medical staff.

It doesn’t surprise you. He always gave you his best and more besides. He would forgo food and gladly suffer pain to make sure you were satisfied and well taken care of.

Once, when you and he were traveling through a dense forest, you fell ill, so much so you could barely move around anywhere. It was your Charizard (who was naught but a Charmander at the time) who made sure that there was always a fire to keep you warm at night. It was he who found the wood and he who found the berries for you to eat, knowing instinctively of their healing properties. Often, you suspected he went without food, because he gave you all of it instead so you would get better.

The situation that had just occurred is no different. He made sure that you accomplished your dream, even though the cost was his own life.

It’s a gift you have trouble accepting.

“Cheer up,” they tell you. “Everything will be better. Think positive. You’re the new Champion.”

But you can’t cheer up. Not right now. The wound is still too fresh, too deep, and it’s slow to heal. Right now, they are doing little more than pouring salt into it, aggravating it more and sparking your temper.

Your temper has been easier to spark ever since he died and to all but a few, you acidly respond: “Only when you figure out how to revive the dead will everything be better.”

(They don’t have a response for that.)

****

You don’t have your Charizard buried, like many thought you would. You have lots of money now, so you could have bought him a large, grandiose tomb, befitting of his noble line, and let him be buried up in Mt. Silver, where only the Elite Four, and a few other privileged people have access to . But you don’t. Instead, you have him cremated. And leaving atop your Skarmory, you take his ashes and intend to slowly fly over the places you and he journeyed to and sprinkle a bit of his ashes over the most important of them. That way, wherever you go, there will be a little bit of him there. Besides, you know he never liked to be confined to one space.

The first place you visit is the Viridian Forest. It’s the place you and he first began your journey. You gave him his name (his special name that only you could call him) here.

Pewter City: Your first gym battle – how could you forget? It was your first win against a Gym Leader. You also can’t forget the look in his innocent Charmander-eyes as they gazed up at the ancient Pokémon fossils housed in the museum in amazement and awe. You think he wanted to evolve into an Aerodactyl someday. He was so naïve then.

Mt. Moon: You danced with the Clefairy here, after having accidentally come upon them during their Midsummer’s Eve Ritual. Neither of you thought you’d make it out alive unless you danced with them. A pity you didn’t know then they were gentle creatures, but because of it, you stayed up until the late hours of the morning after you and he ‘escaped’, telling tales of barbaric Clefairy who made their victims dance until they died. (You were both hopelessly young then…)

Cerulean City: You lost your first Gym Battle here. Afterwards, you were depressed enough you suddenly weren’t sure if you wanted to be a Pokémon Trainer anymore, because you thought you were no good. But you tried again, and won.

Celadon City: How were you supposed to know he was allergic to the perfumes Erika made?

The Cycling Road: He evolved into Chameleon here, after a group of wannabe thug bikers threatened you. (You could’ve handled it without him having to evolve and torch their motorcycles. Really. You could’ve.)

Lavender Town: It was here you discovered that you and he were both deathly afraid of ghost-types. You recall running out of Lavender Town’s Pokemon Tower, scared half out of your mind while your Charizard (then a Charmeleon) ran after you, quite clearly. You both had nightmares for months afterward.

Fuchsia City: If you remember correctly, it was he who ticked off the Scyther in the Safari Zone. Not you.

The Sevii Islands: He evolved into his final form here, though you aren’t sure which island it was, exactly. It was just after you had run and jumped off a cliff. He probably thought you were suicidal when he evolved into his draconic form, bolting into the sky on his newfound wings, only to find that you were resting safely on your new Skarmory’s back, because you were teaching her how to Fly.

Your home is your final stop. You land just outside your mother and father’s house, and without going in and telling your parents that you’re finally home (What has it been? Three years? Four?) you recall your Skarmory back into her pokéball, heading purposely into the backyard. You walk slowly, inhaling in the clean air, tinged with the fresh smell of the berry trees that your parents grow here.

It’s so peaceful out here… you think, pulling out a small bag from your pocket.

Inside, it holds the last remnants of your first Pokémon. Slowly, you open the drawstrings that keep the contents inside, staring at the black, dull ashes that were once a living, breathing creature who, once upon a time, flew unchallenged across the heavenly sky.

You move towards the cliff edge that overlooks the sea. A gentle wind is blowing.

You take a deep breath.

(Time will freeze, Eternity will wait, and Death will stop its inevitable course for these few precious moments. For they are yours, and forever will be. )

You slowly lift up the ash filled bag, and you hesitate for only a moment more –

Nevertheless, this one shot was beautiful. The mood you set is heart wrenching at times, confusing at other times, but overall, it was an enjoyable read. It was as if I was the one on that journey. And about the Charizard...*laughs* What a sad way to die.

It most definitely was. I don't usually enjoy stuff written in 'you' form, but this fanfic was a very touching piece of writing and kept me wanting to see what would happen next. Meh, I kind of figured that the Charizard would die but it was still sad. ;_; Although I'm usually one to harp on about descriptiveness, this one definitely doesn't need any more of it, in fact, I'm assuming that the lack of description was done on purpose. It definitely contributed to the mood nicely and kept my attention on what is essential. Oh, and I loved the little side-remarks made in the brackets (Hehee, I loved the Blisseys' personality. ). The whole look into the past thing was a nice touch too, funny and sad at the same time. Good work.

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Hmm.. In some parts I suppose it was a bit lacking in description.. Such things as the appearance of *you* were left absent for a reason, yes. I thought I had an adequate amount of description though, and I myself thought the battle sequence had quite a bit of description.

I actually did start crying. *still majorly sniffling* Wow, just...Blarg, I get into these sort of stories way too much. @_@ It was really good, though! The description/action just sucked me in like all those major published novels can.

*can't take it any more and runs to give her own, soon-to-be very confused, Charmeleon, a ginormous hug*

At the start i thought it was "Another one of them stories". But i was wrong, It was probably the best "You" form One-shot Fic i've read yet ! And i've seen alot.
It was so emotional the way Charizard died, it bought a tear to my eye.

You really know how to work up those inner feelings, and set offthat spark that makes us feel the pain of the Charizard's trainer. I also believe that the placement of the second person point of view added to that sensation, and was very well written. normally, when I try to write in secnd person, it sounds like I'm ordering people around, telling them you did this, and next you did that. You make it seem so perfectly real. I didn't find a lack of description, so I'll shut up about that.

However, the one thing that bothered me slightly, was the abrupt way you sort of told us that the Charizard died. I suppose it made the fanfiction better, but it was still sad to me, and I found it odd. Not wrong, but just odd.

Awesome fic.
Its really good for a One-Shot.
(Alot of one-shots tend to lack things...)
But it was cool.
I also liked the fact that you made it a battle.
Its rare to see Pokemon Fanfics with actual battles in them..

Granted... there maybe alot of them on here, because I haven't read too many fanfics on here...but in general, battles are rare.

However, the one thing that bothered me slightly, was the abrupt way you sort of told us that the Charizard died. I suppose it made the fanfiction better, but it was still sad to me, and I found it odd. Not wrong, but just odd.

It was an odd stylistic choice, but I wanted to make it abrupt - as this just wasn't some thing the Trainer had been expecting. It was just that, abrupt, unexpected. I suppose I could've gone into more detail, but I didn't want to do that.

Thanks for your review! I appreciate your comments.

Drew:

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I also liked the fact that you made it a battle.
Its rare to see Pokemon Fanfics with actual battles in them..

I had never really thought battles were rare, but now that you mention it, I guess they kind of are. o.o Thanks for your review!

Honestly, I've been meaning to review this ever since it was first published. Here we go, then...

The Ties that Bind

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Through the blood and sweat and constant toil, you have finally made it to the last, and final battle that will ultimately determine who will be the next Champion.

No comma after last. Commas replace the letter and when you're stacking descriptors; therefore, it could either be "last and final" or "last, final." Either way, though, it seems rather redundant to say last, final battle.

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Even the Elite Four were just another obstacle in the road you had to get over to accomplish your dream.

Verrry awkward, there; I had to read it a couple times to see what you meant. I think that you don't need to say anything about actually getting over the obstacles; just leave it as "Even the Elite Four were just another obstacle in the road you had to [travel, journey, etc.] to reach your dream." Cleaner, simpler, says the same thing. The problem with the sentence as is now is the syntax actually implies that it's the road that needs to be gotten over, not the obstacles, and that doesn't make much sense.

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After a spectacular double knockout that had taken out his Pokémon and yours, you are both down to your final Pokémon.

Eh, I think you could leave it as double knockout without clarification. The term seems quite self-explanatory.

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In your hand, the spheroid that contains your last contender – your final hope and light – is clutched, waiting to be summoned.

A spheroid is actually an elliptical shape, and a pokéball is spherical. If you must, just use "sphere", but is there any reason that you wouldn't use "pokéball" instead?

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Trustworthy and loyal, you know he’ll never let you down.

"Trustworthy and loyal" is a dangling participle; look closely at the sentence and you'll note that the phrase has no subject with which to connect.

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You only grin and, tapping the center of the sphere once, you throw it out into the battleground.

Ah, how tired I get of people referring to pokéballs as "spheres" (or worse, "orbs")... also note that the ball has changed shape since you last described it (spheroid, remember).

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In a bright flash of evanescent white, a draconic figure emerges.

draconian (adj): 1. Of or designating a law or code of extreme severity. 2. Exceedingly rigorous and harsh.
draconic (adj): Of or relating to a dragon.

Note that draconic can be used as a variation on draconian, but draconian may not be used in place of draconic...

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Tough and vibrant, with a long, flamed-tipped tail that is lit and pulsing, the Charizard surveys the crowd; it takes him a moment to react.

His tail is... pulsing? 0.o

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He roars once, before bolting up into the blue, noonday sky, wings spread wide, each flap taking him higher and higher, until his body is finally in front of the sun, so it’s harder for the opponents below to see him.

No comma after once; also, no comma after blue. Recall that commas replace the word "and" when separating descriptors. Would you say "the blue and noonday sky?"

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He is forced to continue his leftward course as the Venusaur moves to direct the Solar Beam to the left, trying to score a hit before the energy runs out.

The leftward course sounds odd in this sentence, because in the last sentence you said that he dived, not dodged down and left. The "leftward" therefore seems to come out of nowhere. The repetition of the word left in this sentence is also somewhat odd.

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Sharp, pointed claws rake across the Venusaur’s tough skin and fragile foliage, leaving scour marks and ripped pieces of leaf and petal in their wake.

Scouring something is scrubbing it or cleaning it, usually. His claws left scrub marks?

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You hear him grunt in satisfaction as the Venusaur cries out in pain, her cry as deep as an earthen drum.

Why not replace "cry" with something else, like "voice" or "roar?" You've already used a form of thew rod once in the sentence, so it looks somewhat strange.

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Your Charizard begins to ascend back up into the air, so he does not see the thick vine that emerges from the Venusaur’s body until it is too late.

I'd even contest for removing "into the air" and leaving it at ascend. That big chunk is unwieldy and redundant.

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With a harsh crack, the tough vine wraps around your Charizard’s ankle like a whip would, and with a tough, vengeful jerk she brings the Charizard back to her own level – face first.

I think that facefirst is generally seen as one word.

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The Stun Spore is already beginning to disperse into the air, and now you can see enough of your companion’s body to see him raise his head, open his lethal jaws, and inhale deeply –

The see-see repetition is a bit jarring here.

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They are all around him now: his arms, his legs, his torso… some are even curling about his neck, preparing to constrict, and strangle.

No comma after constrict. Also, this sentence reads that Charizard's legs, arms, and torso are around him now.

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You face flushes in anger at this, and a bunch of expletives cross your mind, but you do not say them.

Explicative is an adjective.

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You call out to your Pokémon by name (not his species name, but his true name you gave in Viridian Forest, when you and he first became acquainted).

I think it would work better as "...the true name you gave him..."

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The vines that have not been severely burned or touched by flame still hold tight around their quarry.

I think you could leave it as just "had not been severely burned." Obviously, if they haven't been touched, they aren't severely burned.

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The Venusaur is weary but alive, and it's only then you notice the Venusaur was channeling the sun’s rays into energy meant to heal and restore, though in this Venusaur’s case it merely kept her conscious with enough energy to carry on.

I'd suggest using pronouns here instead of referring to the pokémon as "the Venusaur" all the time. "The Venusuar is weary but alive, and it's only then you notice (that) she was channeling the sun's rays into energy meant to heal and restore, though in this/her case it merely kept her conscious with enough energy to carry on."

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You can see the grass-type is straining to gather each essential sun particle for the final attack that will, if it’s not stopped, bring about the end of the match – the end of your dream.

Sun particle?

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First, though, you have to get your Charizard to move.

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Green flames dance over the surprised plant-type, setting the already burned foliage alight with dragon-fire, while merciless claws dig into the already burned, tender skin in a last desperate attempt to snatch victory out of the claws of chance.

The use of "claws" here is somewhat redundant. Also, it seems somewhat inappropriate to say that you're snatching the victory from the claws of chance; how is the Champion winning by luck as opposed to skill?

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Only the feelings of self-consciousness keep you from jumping up and down in your trainer box – that and the fact your Charizard still hasn’t moved.

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The noise of the crowd lessens while the sound of your own heartbeat magnifies a hundredfold.

Eh, I think it would be better as "is magnified" as opposed to "magnifies."

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You are barely aware that the stand-by medic has noticed your distress until two Machoke flit in front of your eyes, lifting a prone body of a Charizard onto a large stretcher.

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Shaking your head in attempts to clear your mind (to dispel this waking nightmare) you finally compose yourself enough to sprint after them.

Hmm... I think it would be better as "an attempt" as opposed to "attempts."

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You are seconds behind the Machoke in entering the Pokémon Center, the scent of anti-bacterial and ammonia reaching your nose.

Antibacterial what?

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Without a backwards glance, she heads into the emergency room, leaving you to stare at the blank, white walls.

No comma after blank.

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Of all the emotions rising within you, anger and frustration erupt to the top.

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So how would she know that this is the best for him, to leave you out here?

I think that's how you'd handle that; this sentence is pretty funky.

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You fight the urge to bury your head in the polyester cushion, instead, pinching yourself to see if maybe, just maybe, you’ll wake up from this horrid nightmare.

No comma after instead. It's not an interruptor here, but a conjunction.

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How would /you/ be feeling if you didn't know whether your Pokémon was okay or not? [color]=red]y[/color]ou want to shout out in retaliation, but you don’t.

What's with the slashes, there? If you were looking for emphasis, remember that de-italicizing words in an italicized passage is the same as italicizing words in a normal faced passage. Shout-out is a noun, and what you want here is the infinitive to shout (out).

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“Listen –“ you finally say, your voice wavering, but you are cut off as the endless tirade of questions bombards you.

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The Blissey is now walking purposely forward, waving about her arms.

Hoo boy... right now the sentence doesn't read properly because of a misplaced modifier. If the Blissey is waving about her arms, then she's waving in order to communicate something about her arms. It's like saying that you were talking about school, or what have you. I don't know if that's very clear... it's something hard to explain. I would suggest reordering the sentence to read "waving her arms about." However, that's a dangling preposition. I think it is. Perhaps it's an accepted one, as I've seen things like "brandishing his sword about" before? I don't know. It's not right now, but I'm not sure if the way I would correct it is right either. So I'll shut up now.

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Three successful Egg Bombs later, you find yourself in a small guest room the Blissey has ushered you into.

See, now that's a dangling preposition. "...you find yourself ina small guest room into which the Blissey has ushered you." It looks weird at first, but I think when you read over it again/aloud you'll find that it actually sounds much better that way.

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You are sitting down on the bottom bunk bed, looking out the window when she comes in again three minutes later.

Hmmm... I believe that a bunk bed refers to the unit as a whole, including the two (or more) actual beds, each of which is referred to as a bunk. Therefore, I think it's bottom bunk, not bottom bunk bed (which by that definition would have the sentence meaning there was more than one bunk bed stacked up for some reason).

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"Umm... thank you."

'Nother dot. ;

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Still, you poke at the egg salad, and sigh, looking at the window just in time to see a small flock of Pidgey fly past.

No comma after salad.

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As a few minutes go by, you think you can hear singing, gentle and soft, coming from just outside your door, but you aren’t too sure.

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Only when you have no more tears to shed and a voice to scream do they tell you how he died.

This sentence actually says that you lack tears but have gained your voice. You need some sort of negative here to show that your voice has been lost along with your voice. For example, "...no more tears to shed and have lost your voice to scream." is bad, but conveys the right idea, at least.

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Once, when you and he were traveling through a dense forest, you fell ill, so much so you could barely move around anywhere. It was your Charizard ( who was naught but a Charmander at the time) who made sure that there was always a fire to keep you warm at night.

Just quoted the second sentence to point out that there's a rogue space between the first parenthesis and "who."

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You have lots of money now, so you could have bought him a large, grandiose tomb, befitting of his noble line, and let him be buried up in Mt. Silver, where only Champions, former Champions, the Elite Four, and other privileged few have access to.

The "other priviledged few" at the end doesn't really seem to work in this sentence. It seems to suggest that there's another specific group that has right to be buried there, instead of just a few notable people without any defining characteristics other than they're important. I don't know if that makes any sense; again, it's something hard to explain. I would suggest, "...the Elite Four, and a few other priviledged people..." This looks somewhat clumsy, however.

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You walk slowly, inhaling in the clean air, tinged with the fresh smell of the berry trees that your parents grow here.

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It’s so peaceful out here… you think, pulling out a small bag from your pocket.

Should the first part be italicized, there?

Whew. All done with that.

I really must congratulate you on this one. This is, I believe, the only second-person piece I've seen that really seems to work. You manage to be so general with the main character, and yet evoke real emotion with them. I think what really allows this piece to take off is the way that it leaves the character so undefined. This allows virtually anyone to take on the role of "you" and yet feel genuinely engaged, as though they really were experiencing what the character is. It allows the reader to bring their own character and personality to the table, instead of trying to force themselves into one too rigidly defined by the author. You deal with such universal themes that readers can easily identify with them and with the character's response to them. This piece is not limited by age, gender, or, to a fair extent personality--anyone and everyone can see themselves in the role of the character and feel a real part of the story. Great job on keeping the character's identity hazy and undefined; I think that the way the piece allows readers to sort of fill in the blanks with themselves is what really allows this to take off and have a real impact.

The stuff within parentheses was very interesting to me as well. I never really understood what the role of them was... at times the information within the brackets seemed like thoughts, but at others it seemed like it was some sort of narrator speaking directly to the reader, especially when imparting knowledge that the character could never know. In any case, they were implemented very well, usually breaking up the flow of the piece in just the right spots to create tension and put emphasis where it was needed. The voice or whatever it was didn't really seem to take on a character of its own, which seemed sort of "right" to me. It remained more a writing effect than a direct character or whatever, again helping the main character feel uncrowded and not locked into any too narrowly-defined personality.

What is really outstanding about this one-shot, however, is its structure. The rise-and-fall is immaculate, with tension built and released at just the right points, everything flowing along smoothly and delivered eloquently. Nothing ever feels rushed or dragged out unnecessarily; the brief comedic interlude in the middle keeps the melancholy from becoming overpowering. The battle at the beginning is one of the best that I've seen in quite a while--the action is executed in an easy, natural way, never dragging as is the case with many battle scenes, with the choreography right on the mark. The description is relevant and does not bog down the story. In the end, this story just has atmosphere--all the elements come together just right to create a real sense of immersion in the story and, consequently, a strong feeling of emotion.

The ending, though, is what I like best. The last section, with the little snapshots of memory carefully woven in, is poignant and highly effective. I have to admit to not liking the last sentence overly much (I think that it sort of detracts from the second-to-last sentence, which is an awesome closer), but the ending just rocked. The juxtaposition in the last section is masterfully executed and keeps the pacing, once again, just right. The last few lines seem to land with a lot of impact, and end the piece on just the right, sort of bittersweet note. I have to admit, there are not a lot of pieces of writing that can make me feel really emotional, but this one really did it for me. Everything just seemed to come together right.

So in short, bravo. Amazing work. This is truly deserving of "Fanfic of the Month."

__________________

In which an undead trainer, a bloodthirsty super-clone, and an irascible ex-Rocket grunt set out to rescue an imprisoned Mew--if they don't end up murdering each other first.

Negrek: Better late than never is right. Thanks so much for taking time out of your life to review this thing. I can only imagine how long it took to do such of a thorough review. I know I usually don't have the patience to do that. And a big thanks for pointing out all those mistakes, and hopefully I can look out for them in the future. Some of them, after you pointed them out, made me feel really, really stupid for not seeing them in the first place. (Honestly, I wonder how my eyes can overlook such things.)

Quote:

Quote:

Even the Elite Four were just another obstacle in the road you had to get over to accomplish your dream.

Verrry awkward, there; I had to read it a couple times to see what you meant. I think that you don't need to say anything about actually getting over the obstacles; just leave it as "Even the Elite Four were just another obstacle in the road you had to [travel, journey, etc.] to reach your dream." Cleaner, simpler, says the same thing. The problem with the sentence as is now is the syntax actually implies that it's the road that needs to be gotten over, not the obstacles, and that doesn't make much sense.

A big thank you for pointing out that one. That sentence has been bothering me for a long time, yet I couldn't find the right way to phrase it. And the 'scrub mark' thing made me laugh. o.o I'll definitely go and change it, now I have a very weird image every time I read over that paragraph. XD

Quote:

Quote:

You can see the grass-type is straining to gather each essential sun particle for the final attack that will, if it’s not stopped, bring about the end of the match – the end of your dream.

Sun particle?

0.o;... Isn't Solar Beam merely the gathering of the the sun's rays (particles) to form into usable energy? That's how I imagined it, anyway.

As for the rest of the review, thanks a lot for the compliments. The stuff in parentheses...well, they were more of a stylistic choice, I guess that just 'wrote' itself in there. And the ending is actually my favorite part of the one-shot, too. (Well, aside from the Egg Bombing Blissey.) And I'm glad those parts didn't come off as cheesy or anything like that - it was the last thing I wanted. And while I'm at it, thanks for telling me the last sentence detracts you from the ending. o.o As I'm always editing, I'll consider taking it out and/or moving it in the near future.

It now looks like I have quite a bit of editing to do.

Again, thanks so much for taking time to review this, I really, really appreciate it and your comments do help and let me know what I can work on. Thanks again!

Pkmnfan_06 : Thanks for your review! I'm glad you liked it. 0_o This is probably the only 'second person' POV that actually works... the other ones I've written in this POV are merely because I found I really like the POV. o.o But I definitely enjoyed writing this one-shot. XD Don't think I could ever pull it off again.

0.o;... Isn't Solar Beam merely the gathering of the the sun's rays (particles) to form into usable energy? That's how I imagined it, anyway.

Weelll... yes and no. The main reason I had a problem with that is because sunlight isn't really made up of particles... well, it is, because light is simultaneously a wave and a particle, but it's not something that a plant collects when it does photosynthesis--the sunlight actually just nudges a few electrons around to get the process going. Mainly I just thought that "sun particles" is a funny phrase, and also I felt bio-geeky at the time and a little nitpicky.

...yeah, I guess sun particles just made me giggle a bit. Makes me think of the name of some kind of breakfast cereal or something. "Start your day with Sun Particles Cereal! Straight from the star that knows mornings best!"

0.o Just randomly scrolling up past the review, I already found an error in it. *applies correction fluid*

The review was no problem. I've rarely so enjoyed doing one.

__________________

In which an undead trainer, a bloodthirsty super-clone, and an irascible ex-Rocket grunt set out to rescue an imprisoned Mew--if they don't end up murdering each other first.

Makes me think of the name of some kind of breakfast cereal or something. "Start your day with Sun Particles Cereal! Straight from the star that knows mornings best!"

They seriously need to make a cereal with that tag line. XD....

Meh, I guess I really didn't go in depth on the biology of stuff, but that was interesting to know, anyway. It's been a couple years since I took biology. o.o I remember doing the Photosynthesis cycle, yet I don't remember anything specific about it.

Hey Saffire Persian! I read this before in SPPF and now I just read it again. I say after reading this the second time, I am still amazed of this great work. I really love your style in this story. Now, since you had been so supportive on my story, I shall do the favor in reviewing your fic here. (I decided to review “The Ties that Bind” here because I felt like reviewing a few stories here in PC).

Quote:

The Champion, out of courtesy, is going first, though it doesn’t really matter who goes first now. The red and white ball flies through the air, erupting in a flash of white light. Out of the light, a giant verdant creature appears, a giant flower spread across her back, while a long, steady grin emerges on her long face as she stamps the ground in challenge. You smile and fancy you can feel it tremble.

I think the sentence structure in this one should be “…a giant verdant creature appears, with its giant spread across her back…” Yeah, learned that the hard way from Timid Kyogre in SPPF!

Quote:

Who does she think she is?

She says she understands, but you know she doesn’t. She knows medical terminology and stuff, but she doesn’t know your Pokémon like you do.

How would she know that your Charizard hates to be alone with people he doesn’t know?

(She doesn’t.)

How would she know that he hates needles?

(She wouldn’t.)

If he wakes up, will she know how to handle him? Can she comfort him like you do when he’s frightened or sad?

(She can’t.)

I actually liked the way you put parentheses in some of the words in this part. Gives an emphasis on how *I* felt about Charizard in the hands of Nurse Joy. This reminds me of “Da Vinci Code” as the writer italized some of the words to show an effect of how a character thinks

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Why must they ask such questions? Don’t they see you are in no mood to talk? Don’t they see that you are gently shaking? Your pale, tear-stained face?

How do you feel about being the next Champion? they ask. How do you feel the battle with the former Champion went? Are you pleased? Surprised? Disappointed? What did you have to do to get this far?

Not: Are you all right? What happened to your Charizard? Is there anything we can do?

How would you be feeling if you didn't know whether your Pokémon was okay or not? you want to shout out in retaliation, but you don’t. You still do not trust yourself to speak, afraid that if you do, your voice will break, and maybe if you don’t speak, these people will go away.

Yep, those paparazzi people don’t know how *I* felt. Wish they could have been more nicer. It seems they did not even know that *my* Charizard’s recent injury even existed.

Quote:

“Listen –“ you finally say, your voice wavering, but you are cut off as the endless tirade of questions bombards you.

(Can’t they just go away?)

The Blissey is now walking purposely forward, waving her arms back and forth. You stand up just as the Blissey enters the crowd, pushing through the people with her oval-shaped body, her gaze that of righteous fury…[/QUOTE]

Hehehe, a Blissey will make a great paparazzi destroyer!

Quote:

You also don’t know that eight trainers now sport black eyes because they asked one too many questions.)

Think it’s supposed to be “…have sport black eyes…”

Quote:

When you wake up again, it is far into the evening.

Exactly forty-five minutes later you find out your Charizard is dead.

It takes you three days to accept it.

(Sniffs) I can’t believed that *my* Charizard is gone.

Quote:

Only when you have no more tears to shed and a no longer have a voice to scream do they tell you how he died.

Supposed to be “…no more tears to shed and no longer have a voice to scream…”.

Fuchsia City: If you remember correctly, it was he who ticked off the Scyther in the Safari Zone. Not you.

Hehehe…beware of the Scythers!

Quote:

(Time will freeze, Eternity will wait, and Death will stop its inevitable course for these few precious moments. For they are yours, and forever will be. )

You slowly lift up the ash filled bag, and you hesitate for only a moment more –

(It’s hard letting go. You never really got to say good-bye)

— before you scatter the remaining contents to the wind.

****
~They say that Time will eventually heal all wounds; but people tend to forget the deep, everlasting scars it leaves~

****
What an ending. I believed that is a great resting place for *my* Charizard. May he rest in peace.

Well, hope for you the best on Metamorphosis! I will try to review more stories here in PC. Sorry this review took a long time. (I told you back in SPPF how I read this and loved it).

You just made me friggin' relive the day my dog died. (Do I even need to tell you I was nearly in tears?)

Seriously though, the story was good. It made me feel depressed, and happy, and confused all at the same time. (Is there an emotion for this?) What interested me most was the ending to be precise the visit the places with special meaning for you and your Charizard. Your story makes me feel so depressed that I walk around with a cloud over my head for a few days... and I keep coming back to read it anyway, because the prose is so good.

That was stunning, I have to say! Absolutely heartwrenching for me (as I have recently experienced death within my family), but I loved it. The description of emotions and thoughts running through the trainers head are incredibly accurate; if it's not too much of a personal question, has somone close to you died before? I can totally relate to this story, in any case; I actually did cry. xDD;;

I am also not much of a fan of second-person fics, but this was an excellent read. Congrats on fic of the month~

You just made me friggin' relive the day my dog died. (Do I even need to tell you I was nearly in tears?)

I'm sorry. XD.. I know how you feel, since I had a cat that passed away not too long ago.

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Seriously though, the story was good. It made me feel depressed, and happy, and confused all at the same time. (Is there an emotion for this?) What interested me most was the ending to be precise the visit the places with special meaning for you and your Charizard. Your story makes me feel so depressed that I walk around with a cloud over my head for a few days... and I keep coming back to read it anyway, because the prose is so good.

Wasn't my intention to make everyone depressed... XD.. but I'm glad it mad such an... impact. Thanks for your review!

FullmetalxFangirl:

Quote:

if it's not too much of a personal question, has somone close to you died before?

Naa, not too much of a personal question. But yes, someone close to me has died before. Not something you can help at all.

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